America's Mysterious Disease
by Mothstar
Summary: One day the seemingly invincible America falls ill! He himself has no idea why he's feeling so nasty, but he's determined not to let it get him down. No pairings, rated for safety. First Hetalia story, please R&R!
1. Chapter 1: The Diagnosis

**Chapter 1: The Diagnosis**

"America, are you feeling okay? You don't look so good."

"Dude, I'm fine!" America tossed his tissue into the trash. "Uh, 'scuse me?"

A waitress had passed by their table, and at America's call she turned around and came over.

"Oh, Mr. America! It's good to see you! Your usual?"

America leaned back in his chair. "That's right! You want anything, bro?"

Canada straightened his glasses. "Um… I'd like… Do you have mac & cheese?"

The waitress nodded. "Small, medium, or large?"

Canada hesitated. He and America were at an America restaurant, and you could never figure out how large a dish was until it was in front of you.

"Small, please."

"Anything to drink?"

"Uh, lemonade."

The waitress nodded again. "I'll be right back with your drinks." She hurried off.

Canada fondled his polar bear, Kumajirou, who was sitting on his lap. "Thanks so much for doing this with me, America."

"Anytime, bro!"

Canada glanced around. He and his brother were at a table outside a diner at America's place. A playful spring breeze tugged at Canada's curl.

America sneezed.

"Bless you." The waitress had returned with their drinks. Canada's eyes widened as America took a swig of his Coke: it was twice as large as Canada's glass.

Kumajirou snuffled and extended a tentative paw toward Canada's lemonade.

The waitress giggled. "Anything for the bear?"

Surprised, America seized the opportunity to feed his bear. "Ice water…. And a small plate of fish, uncooked, please."

The polar bear woofed happily.

"He says thank you," Canada continued with a grin.

The waitress smiled back. She opened her mouth to say something, but a call from another table cut her off. She gave the brothers a hasty nod and rushed away.

Canada looked up from his straw to see America staring at him. America immediately averted his eyes and became engrossed in something beyond Canada, sipping his Coke and gazing absently.

Canada felt mildly awkward. He hadn't spent time with his brother for a while, but America was never this quiet.

_I wonder if he's okay…._

Kumajirou broke the silence with a loud rumble and batted angrily at Canada's curl.

America jumped, broken out of his stupor, and laughed. Canada attempted to fend off the bear with one hand and keep his glass upright with the other.

Kumajirou scrambled up Canada's front and made himself comfortable with half of his body on Canada's shoulder and the other half on Canada's head. Canada grunted and abandoned his lemonade to try and grab the bear. Kumajirou did the grabbing, taking Canada's curl in his mouth and yanking.

"You win, Kumojira," Canada mumbled.

"Dude," America snorted, "you just got owned by a polar bear."

Kumajirou made a noise through his noise that sounded not unlike teasing laughter. Canada sighed. "Please get off me…."

"Who are you?" the bear asked, almost mockingly.

Canada sighed again. That was the only English phrase Kumajirou could (or would) say, and it bothered Canada deeply. But all he said was, "I'm Canada."

"Well, Canada, here's your mac & cheese!"

The waitress had approached without any of them noticing, not even Kumajirou. The bear sniffed the air once and his eyes lit up. Using Canada as a springboard, he leapt onto the ground and sat doglike at the waitress's feet, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, which was set in a goofy grin.

"Here you are, Mr. Bear." The waitress giggled and placed two dishes on the ground. Kumajirou took a second to rub his head against the waitress's leg before plunging his muzzle in one of the plates.

"He's like a cat and a dog at the same time," the waitress commented. Kumajirou turned and gave her a clumsy thumbs-up, something neither a cat nor a dog can do.

"Oh, he's so adorable!" the waitress gushed. She put a plate in front of America and bent to scratch Kumajirou's ears.

Canada was used to the attention Kumajirou attracted and began to eat his mac & cheese. It was delicious.

The waitress rose and nodded at the brothers before departing. "Enjoy!"

Canada looked over at America's plate and froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

"America, are you sure you can eat all that?"

America's plate had two very large hamburgers on a sea of French fries.

"Sometimes I bring part of it home for dinner," America explained as he picked up one of the burgers.

"Okay," Canada conceded.

America took a massive bite out of his hamburger.

For a bit America was too busy eating to have a proper conversation, but soon he put down his half-eaten burger and said, "I'm gonna get a box."

Canada looked over at America, taken aback. America could eat a whole hamburger at midmorning and still be hungry for lunch. Canada shrugged mentally. Maybe America had had a late breakfast. He _had_ come to the meeting a bit late….

Wanting to reassure himself, Canada swallowed his mouthful and attempted to start a conversation. "This is really good mac & cheese."

America nodded absently. "Yep…. Really good."

"America, are you okay?"

America gave Canada an irritated look. "I told you, I'm fine. Um, could I have a box, please?"

The waitress had walked up. She nodded at America, seeming somewhat surprised.

As Canada finished his mac & cheese, America sipped lazily on his soda. Kumajirou licked his dish clean and came over to America, tugging on his pant leg. America smiled and bent to tickle the bear under the chin in a rare display of gentleness.

The waitress returned and emptied America's plate into a box. She collected the dishes and asked, "Do you want dessert?"

"Of course! That's the best part!" America exclaimed. "Canadia, you want anything?"

"I'll just have a small vanilla ice cream."

America tapped his chin with one finger. "Hmm… I feel like one of those twisty chocolate-vanilla soft-serves… Y'know what I mean?"

The waitress smiled, amused. "I know what you mean. Okay, I'll be right back!"

Kumajirou had hidden when the waitress approached and poked his head out from under the table when she left.

America took off his glasses and rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand. Kumajirou noticed this and darted from his hiding spot to jump on America's lap, sniffing intently at America's hand and eye at the same time. America gasped, startled, and suddenly started coughing. Kumajirou hopped off of America's laugh and shook himself.

"You okay?" Canada asked.

"I got some of his fur stuck in my throat," America spluttered.

Canada was almost certain he was lying but didn't object.

"Ice cream's here," the waitress announced. "And here's the check for whenever you're done, no rush. Enjoy!"

"We will!" Canada called after her.

America picked at his "twisty-chocolate-vanilla-soft-serve" and decided to bring that home too. "It just doesn't taste as good as it usually does."

"Mine tastes fine," Canada commented. He didn't bother to tell America that the waitress had given him a medium.

The rest of the meal passed somewhat awkwardly: America's energy had given out and he was unusually quiet. Canada ate most of his ice cream and gave the rest to Kumajirou.

"Oh no!" America groaned suddenly.

"What is it?" Canada asked, alarmed.

"I lost my wallet."

Before Canada could do anything, Kumajirou whined loudly. The brothers looked down and Canada sighed. "You little rascal!"

Kumajirou whined again and let the American-flag-patterned wallet fall from his mouth.

"Honestly…," America grumbled irritably. He snatched up the wallet and slipped a bill into the check.

They went back to the car in a palpable silence. America plopped into the driver's seat and visibly relaxed. "We're going to my place to chill, right?"

Canada buckled his seatbelt and let Kumajirou climb onto his lap. "That's right."

**There is a line beneath this text but I'm not sure if it appeared**

* * *

The car pulled into the driveway at America's house. America and Canada got out, followed by Kumajirou. The polar bear was the only one with energy. Canada was sleepy from the meal, and America… He just hadn't been himself lately.

America disappeared into the kitchen with his leftovers. Canada made himself comfortable on the couch. America joined him a moment later, and they sat there, unsure of what to do next.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Sure," America mumbled. "But not some romance movie like _Twilight_. I can't watch romance movies after eating, it's just…." He stuck out his tongue and shook his head. "Just gross."

Canada smirked and pulled _Independence Day_ off of the DVD rack.

As the movie started to play, Tony the alien wandered in with a bowl of popcorn and sat between Canada and America, watching raptly and making rude gestures at the TV from time to time. Finally Kumajirou clasped Tony's thin alien hands between his furry paws and growled.

Tony watched the movie all the way to the end. The popcorn had been pushed aside and Kumajirou had laid on Tony's arms and lap, eventually falling asleep. Canada, who had never seen the movie before, stayed awake for the whole thing.

As the credits began to roll, Tony slid off of the couch, knocking the sleeping Kumajirou to the floor and eliciting yips of protest from the bear. Kumajirou scrambled to his paws and began chasing Tony around the couch.

Canada stretched. "That's a good movie, eh, America? …America?"

America was sprawled on his side of the couch, fast asleep.

Canada had just made up his mind to let his brother sleep when Tony scrambled over the top of the couch and landed his whole weight on America. America woke with a start to see Kumajirou sliding down the couch after the alien. The blanket draped over the back of the couch came with them, and the bear and alien soon became entangled in it as they tussled.

"Get off him, guys!" Canada urged.

America shoved impatiently at the struggling creatures with little effect. Canada reached into the fray and managed to grab Kumajirou by the scruff of his neck, holding him out of Tony's reach.

"You guys should know better!" Canada scolded. "Especially you, Kumujira!"

Kumajirou growled and swiped at Tony. Tony hopped backwards and blew a raspberry.

"He's just trying to provoke you," Canada continued, "so don't let him!"

Kumajirou went limp in Canada's grip and whined.

"That's better." Canada let go of the bear, and he curled in Canada's lap and bared his teeth at Tony.

"Lay it off, Tony," America ordered.

Tony made a very rude gesture at Kumajirou and scurried out of the room.

Canada turned his attention to America. "Are you doing okay?"

America shrugged and laid his head back on the couch again.

A worm of anxiety crept into Canada's belly. He leaned over, making Kumajirou snort and abandon his lap.

America's face was flushed and he was breathing fast. His T-shirt was dampened with sweat.

"America?"

"Whaddaya want?" America muttered without opening his eyes.

"I think you're sick."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm fine."

"America, you're sick."

There was a note of definiteness in Canada's voice that caught America's attention. He opened his eyes halfway and looked at his brother.

"I'm sick?"

"Yes. I think you have a fever."

"You think I have a fever…," America echoed with a grumble. His muttering trailed off into a cough.

"Yes," Canada replied firmly. "And I'm going to take your temperature."

He fetched a thermometer from the bathroom and stuck it in America's mouth. It beeped after a bit.

_100.2 F / 37.9 C_, Canada read to himself. A pit opened in his stomach. _America is really sick!_

"What is it?" America asked, noticing the look on Canada's face.

"A hundred point two," Canada told him softly.

America blinked in surprise. "That's a fever."

_No duh._ "And you said you were okay!"

America shrugged.

Canada sighed and went in the kitchen. He came back out with a cup of juice, a pill, and a wet cloth.

"What is _that_? Some kind of illegal drug?" America looked suspiciously at the pill.

Canada rolled his eyes. _It's your kitchen, dummy. Do you have illegal drugs in your kitchen?_ "No, it's Tylenol. To bring your fever down."

"And this?" He sniffed the juice in the cup Canada handed him.

"It's apple juice."

"Apple juice?! Where the #*!% did you find apple juice? I don't have any apple juice. Can't I have soda instead?"

"I found it in the back of your fridge." Canada handed America the pill. "And I'd rather you drink apple juice than soda."

"Why?"

"Caffeine dehydrates you. Now, I want you to drink all of it."

America let out a gusty sigh, but there was no fight left in him. Obediently he swallowed the pill and drained the cup.

"Happy?"

Canada stepped back and gazed at America. His glasses were crooked. His brow was creased. His face was flushed. One of his pant legs was rolled up, and his coat was spread out on his lap. The blanket over the back of the sofa had fallen a while ago, and America had sloppily covered himself with it, in addition to his coat. Since Canada had gotten up he had swung his legs over the side of the couch and managed to take up the whole sofa.

Basically, America looked pretty pathetic.

"Yes."

Canada put the wet cloth on America's forehead. America sighed and relaxed. "Hey, thanks."

"No problem." Canada adjusted the blanket to cover all of America. "Now, you just rest, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Then he settled down on a nearby chair with a book and began to read.

**I do not own Hetaila, Twilight, or Independence Day.**


	2. Chapter 2: Unwelcome Company

**Chapter 2: Unwelcome Company**

"Gerroff!"

Canada jolted awake. Kumajirou had jumped onto the couch but landed on America.

"Come on, Kumojira," Canada called. The bear gave America a furious look and scampered over to Canada, ready to jump on his lap, but Canada stood up. He immediately lost his seat to Kumajirou.

Canada went over to the couch and bent over America. "Sorry, I fell asleep. How are you feeling?"

America gave an angry pout. "How am I feeling?" He let out a raspy cough. "I'm feeling like a pile of crap."

Canada felt America's forehead. "Your fever hasn't broken yet."

"I can tell," America grumbled.

Canada fetched another cup of juice and stood there until America drank it all.

"Can I have a tissue?" America asked with a sniff.

Canada found a tissue box and brought it over, feeling a premonition as America blew his nose for what was most likely the first time of many. Canada discovered a wastebasket nearby and plopped it next to the couch.

America growled, which turned into a cough. "Stupid…sneeze-fever-nose-thing."

There was a knock at the door.

Kumajirou bounded onto the couch and stood on America, staring hostilely at the doorway.

Canada answered the door.

"Oh, America! I heard you were sick!"

"Actually, I'm Canada…."

America looked around Canada and glared at the newcomer. "Britain. Why are you here?"

Britain stepped inside and reached around Canada to close the door. "I heard you were sick, and I wanted to see how you were."

"You've seen. Now leave."

Britain snorted. "You don't have to be mean. I could even help out."

"I don't need your help!" America's voice cracked and he started coughing.

Canada came up beside Britain. "Um, I hate to be rude, but this isn't the best time to be fighting…."

Britain looked at Canada. "Who are you again?"

Canada stared back. "I just told you, I'm Canada…."

Kumajirou growled.

"Relax, Kumojira," Canada ordered. "Um, excuse me, Britain, but America's sick and probably a little cranky, and I think you should just, um, leave…just for now…."

"Ohonhon! What do we 'ave 'ere?"

Kumajirou barked. Canada sighed. America moaned. And Britain hollered, "What the #*!% are you doing here, France?!"

France entered the room through the kitchen. "Ze back door was unlocked," he explained. "I 'eard America was sick—"

" #*!% it, I _told_ you America was sick!"

"—so I came to see for myself."

Britain brandished his fist at France. "You followed me, didn't you?!"

France tilted his head to one side. "Well, we all travel ze same road, non?"

Britain made an exasperated growling noise.

America let out a loud sigh. "Dudes, I'm sick. You've seen. Now leave. Please, thank you, and goodbye!"

France turned toward the couch and gasped. "Oh, 'e is so cute!" he whispered to himself. "I don't zink I 'ave seen 'im be zis cute since 'e was just a colony!"

"Creepy, dude…."

France smiled.

Chaos ensued.

France had barely taken a step forward when Kumajirou launched himself off of America, making America yell, and onto France's front. France shrieked as Kumajirou yanked his hair and nipped his nose. Britain began ranting at France but made no move to stop the mayhem. Canada made a feeble attempt to call off Kumajirou.

Suddenly a strange, wistful expression crept across Britain's face.

* * *

_A little boy, flushed with fever, shivering in bed…._

"_I don't feel good, Britain," he whimpered._

_Britain put a damp cloth on the boy's forehead. "You just rest, America, and I'll take good care of you. Do you want me to tell you a story?"_

"_Tell me about when you were a pirate!"_

_Britain hesitated, but only for a moment. "Okay, but I'm only telling this story once, so listen closely!"_

Britain observed the pandemonium, his thick eyebrows meeting tensely in the middle of his forehead.

Then he took action.

* * *

America had gathered his energy and prepared to get off the couch to break up the fight when Britain stepped forward, his expression hard and unreadable. The older country looped his arms around France's shoulders and began to drag him toward the door.

"Britain? Wh-what are you doing?"

"You shouldn't make a habit of harassing ill people," Britain grunted.

"I wasn't 'arassing 'im! Un'and me!"

"Come on…France…. Do I have to drag you all the way to your car?"

France threw off Britain. "Fine, fine, I'll go! You didn't need to get rough. I was just leaving anyway."

France headed for the door with Britain on his heels.

"Well, uh, feel better, America," Britain said before he slammed the door shut.

The house became eerily quiet. Canada stared blankly at the door. Kumajirou snorted and began to lick himself. America shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around him, then grunted and kicked it away.

Canada jumped, startled out of his stupor. "That was strange," he commented.

America rolled over, swallowing a cough, and hugged the pillow. He had just taken a nap, but all this activity had made him feel worse. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a month. But the only thing that happened when he closed his eyes was the throbbing of that continual pressure in his forehead.

"You doing okay?" Canada asked.

America groaned. "I am perfectly healthy, thank you, Captain Obvious."

Canada sat on the bit of couch that was left. "Sorry, I was just checking."

America rolled back over, forcing Canada to get up.

"Do you want me to play some music?" Canada offered.

"Sure, whatever."

"Okay, I'll put on Pandora, and you just chill out, okay?"

"You said 'okay' twice," America griped.

Canada ignored him. The silence was filled with America's raspy breathing and the clicking of the laptop keyboard as Canada brought up the Pandora website.

"Don't you have the app?" America complained.

"I left my iPod at my place," Canada explained.

"Why don't you have an iPhone?"

"Because I don't."

"Whatever, man. I don't care."

Canada heaved a sigh.


	3. Chapter 3: Canada Leaves

**Chapter 3: Canada Leaves**

"Good morning, America. How are you feeling?"

America grunted.

"No better?" Canada guessed.

America smacked the couch for no reason at all. "Couch," he grumbled. "This is a freakin' couch. Couch…."

"Whoa, relax." Canada picked up Kumajirou as he spoke. The bear had been trying to nibble America's fingers. "Be nice, Kumojira, America's sick."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada."

"I'm a potato," America muttered.

"You're a country," Canada corrected him.

"I know. Gosh, Canada. You don't have to correct me all the time. I'm always right."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're not…."

"CANADIA!"

"Yes?"

"_I just told you not to correct me."_

Canada didn't reply.

"CANADIA!"

"Yes, America?"

"I want a Twinkie."

Canada massaged his forehead, exasperated. "You shouldn't have many sweets when you're sick."

"_I want a Twinkie."_

"No."

America gazed at Canada, looking very much heartbroken. "Did you just say no?"

"Yes, I did."

"GIVE ME A TWINKIE."

"No. I am not going to give you a Twinkie."

"GIVE ME A #*!%ING TWINKIE!"

"Watch your language!" Canada snapped.

"Some brother you are," America grumbled.

"America!" Canada stood in front of the couch. "I got five hours of sleep last night. I'm not going to argue with you. _You are not getting a Twinkie_."

America heaved a sigh and started coughing. He coughed for a while and spat a blob of phlegm into the garbage.

"You win," America sputtered at last. He seemed exhausted.

Canada took America's temperature again. His fever hadn't gone down; in fact, it was higher.

America sneezed.

Canada flinched. "Please, cover your mouth!"

America sniffed and rubbed furiously at his nose with one finger. "If you don't like it," he said, "you can leave."

Canada stared at America for a second. He was not expecting this at all. "What? !"

America sat up fully (it appeared to take some effort) and looked Canada in the eye. "I didn't _ask_ for you to help me."

"But—But—America!"

"I can take care of myself!" America declared stubbornly. He took a breath and began hacking painfully. Canada could only watch as America's muscular frame was wracked with coughs.

"I can take care of myself," he repeated finally.

* * *

America stared at Canada, waiting for a reply. Knowing Canada, he would leave. _I hope he takes that stupid bear with him._

Kumajirou was chewing on a sock. Noticing the silence, he trotted over to Canada and offered him the sock. Canada took it and tossed it somewhere. Kumajirou glowered at Canada, but Canada was no longer looking at the bear.

"Fine, I'll leave, if that's what you want, America," Canada said at last. "But don't expect any help from me if you get in trouble. C'mon, Kumajirjir, let's go."

America was startled by the speed at which Canada left. Within five minutes he was gone. And Canada had to walk home!

As the house quieted, America settled back down on the couch and exhaled deeply. It was nice to be alone with himself and Tony and his own thoughts.

But this silence was driving him crazy.

"Yo, Tony!" he called. "Can ya set up the Xbox?"

The alien made a pleased noise and got to work. America sighed again.

_This is how it should be. Just me, Tony, and video games. Now I just need this stupid cold to go away!_

* * *

**Sorry about the short (and slightly choppy) chapter, I wanted to get it published. There is such a drastic shift in action that it would be difficult/long/annoying to have a lengthy chapter. It was easier to divide it. Why? You'll see…. Please review~!**


	4. Chapter 4: They Never Learn

**Chapter 4: They Never Learn**

Alfred swore viciously and hurled his PS3 controller at Tony. It missed the alien by at least a yard and disappeared into a dark corner. Tony ignored the disturbance and continued firing at Alfred's character on the TV screen.

" !%# it, racter on the screen.

o fire at America' least a yard and disappeared into a dark corner. Tony, go easy on me!"

" !%#," Tony retorted.

Alfred threw his head back and let out a frustrated groan. He was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit, which brought Alfred's head lower than it had been before.

When the coughing stopped, Alfred spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the tower of tissues in the trash. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and leaned his forearms on his thighs, sitting up for the first time in several hours.

"I hate this !%#," he grumbled.

Alfred watched through half-closed eyes as Tony filled his character with bullets. He didn't feel like getting up to retrieve his controller; actually, he didn't feel like getting up to do anything. His fingers ached. Was that because he had been playing video games ever since Matthew left? But the rest of him ached as well, and he hadn't done anything except lie on the couch.

"You win, dude," he told Tony. "I'll get my revenge when I feel better."

Tony giggled smugly and pressed buttons with a vengeance. The sound of machine gun fire echoed throughout the otherwise silent house. The noise made Alfred's head hurt.

Alfred heaved a sigh and rubbed his forehead. It was hot and sweaty.

"Nothing new there," he mumbled.

His head throbbed. The TV screen blurred into a bright white smudge that irritated his eyes.

"Tony, could you play somewhere else?"

Tony studied Alfred closely, then nodded once and clicked off the TV. The room darkened suddenly.

"Thanks."

Alfred stared into space, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He didn't feel any better; the Tylenol Matthew had given him yesterday had worn off long ago. But he felt too crappy to get up and find more.

He licked his lips. They were dry and chapped.

"Who gives a !%#," Alfred rasped. He wiped his forehead again and laid back down, closing his eyes with a sigh that caught in his throat.

He really hated being sick. He couldn't _do_ anything except lie here and feel sorry for himself. And that's what he did. He had no sense of time passing; he could have been lying there for a minute or an hour.

_This is stupid…_

His head was swimming. He felt too hot to hold on to coherent thoughts….

He wished there was someone who would just be with him and watch over him and… someone who would…

"Sing to me, Artie…."

* * *

Twenty minutes earlier, Arthur had sent a text message to Matthew asking about Alfred.

The Canadian's reply had been brief: _"Idk, I left his house a while ago"_.

_"__So he's home alone?!"_ Arthur had sent back.

_"__Yeah"._

_"__Why'd you leave him alone?"_

Arthur hadn't bothered to read Matthew's reply. He was already on his way to Alfred's house.

When he arrived, there was a light on in Alfred's bedroom.

_That's where he is, then._

The front door was unlocked; Arthur let himself in.

The living room was dark. Arthur placed his feet carefully. One was never sure of what was on Alfred's floor.

He had almost made it to the hallway when he heard a faint, raspy voice behind him.

"Sing to me, Artie…."

Arthur stopped in his tracks. Alfred had just called him "Artie"… He hadn't done that since he was a little boy. And he wanted Arthur to sing for him…?

Arthur's parental instinct kicked in, and he hurried in the direction of Alfred's voice. "I'm here, Alfred."

"Arthur?" The response was tinged with surprise. "You're here? When'd you…." He trailed off.

Arthur's eyes were almost fully adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out a form curled up on the couch. Alfred's blue eyes reflected the little light in the room. Arthur noticed that they were feverish and confused.

Arthur felt Alfred's forehead.

"My gosh, you're burning up!"

Alfred's eyes widened in panic. The expression looked out of place on his face. "I-I'm on fire?"

"No, you have a fever," Arthur explained hurriedly. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Don't leave me," Alfred called feebly. "Please don't leave me…."

"I'm not going far," Arthur promised.

Arthur could've sworn he saw tears on Alfred's cheeks. "Don't go…."

Arthur ignored the American's husky whisper and went in the kitchen.

There was a bottle and a piece of paper on the counter. The paper read:

_Alfred—_

_If you need anything, just ring me up. Don't forget to take this. Hope you feel better!_

_~Matthew_

Arthur inspected the bottle and scoffed lightly. _He didn't take his Acetaminophen._

He took a pill from the bottle and put the dish towel under the faucet.

"I'm back," he said softly, putting the damp towel on Alfred's forehead. "You need to swallow this pill, okay?"

Alfred swallowed. "Water…."

Arthur stifled a sigh and fetched a glass of water. He fed the pill gently to Alfred and gave him the cup.

"Thank you," Alfred mumbled.

"You wanted me to sing to you?" Arthur asked.

Alfred nodded.

Arthur took a deep breath and began to sing a song he'd edited for the young Alfred.

_"__Are you sleeping, are you sleeping, brother Al, brother Al? Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing, ding ding dong, ding ding dong."_

Unsure of what else to do, Arthur sang the song over and over.

Eventually Alfred's face relaxed, and a faint sigh escaped his lips as he fell asleep.

* * *

**I know this chapter isn't what you expected. It's not what I expected either. I was rushing at the end, and I'm sorry. Please point out any and all errors you see so that I may rewrite this at a later date.**

**I am actually going away for a week so no more updates until after then.**

**I did change them from their country names to their human names because I have another story that uses their human names and it was confusing jumping between the two. (You should check out that story, by the way.)**

**Thanks so much for reviewing this, you guys! If you could review this chapter too, I'd really appreciate it! I know it's not as good as it could be…**

**Until next week, then!**

**~Mothy**


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